


In Between

by KaytiKazoo



Series: Be Near When I Call Your Name [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Grant Ward Isn't Hydra, Hurt Leo Fitz, M/M, Protective Grant Ward
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:54:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23499361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaytiKazoo/pseuds/KaytiKazoo
Summary: Prequel to Grounded - the story of how Leo Fitz got hurt
Relationships: Leo Fitz/Grant Ward
Series: Be Near When I Call Your Name [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1681753
Comments: 2
Kudos: 41





	In Between

It was a simple op, just get in, extract the piece of weaponry they were tracking, and get out. From what Ward could tell from the whispers he’d kept into contact with even after cutting ties to Hydra, Hydra hadn’t been alerted to the weapon yet, so if they were quiet, they could sneak it out and they’d never know. 

“Ward, Fitz,” Coulson said, turning to them and passing Ward the mission brief, “May will be dropping you off at the airfield outside of town, and I’ll have a car waiting for you. You’re just going on a nice day trip, get some lunch, do some shopping, steal an essential piece of a cataclysmic doomsday weapon, see a movie, whatever, be cute. It’s just a nice date outing away from the team. Nothing suspicious happening here.”

Fitz snorted, leaning into Ward as he paged through the mission brief.

“Is this our life now,” he asked quietly, “as a SHIELD-approved relationship? Mission covers.”

“Yes,” May said from the side. At least she was honest.

“Well, at least there’s missions,” Ward said. “Better than no dates at all.”

“If we get shot at, it’s not a date,” Fitz said. 

“Then, we’ve never been on a date.”

“Putting out before the first date,” Daisy teased, “Fitz, I never knew you were so easy!”

“Fuck off,” he replied.

She smiled at him, her cheeky smile that Ward knew Fitz adored and also despised, her bratty disposition coming out. Fitz had admitted to Ward, in the quiet of their bed, that sometimes he imagined that this was what having a younger sister was like. 

“You leave in the morning and should touch down at the airfield around 11:30 local time,” Coulson said. “Read up before then.”

“Yes, sir,” Ward said softly, dropping his hand to his side to take Fitz’s. “We’ll be ready.”

* * *

Just as planned, May touched down at the airfield just after 11:30, and there was a car waiting for them. Ward took the driver’s seat, and Fitz climbed in passenger with a wave at May just as she took off. She wouldn’t go far, but they wanted it to look like they were there alone, not waiting for an extraction. Ward held Fitz’s hand, as Coulson had said, to look “couple-y,” but also just because Fitz’s hand fit so well with his own. It had taken them so long to get their shit together, to finally find their way together after so many twists and bumps and near breaks. Sometimes, Ward wondered at how they even managed to get here, how the world had been kind enough to let them. He’d never had anything easy in his life, but since he and Fitz had somehow come together, being with Fitz was as easy as breathing. 

“Okay, your favorite sweet as a child,” Fitz said, at his side in the car, heading towards their fake, but not entirely, date with his hand clasped in Ward’s like it was all okay.

“When I was a kid,” Ward said slowly, considering. “I really liked  SweetTarts .”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“I wouldn’t have taken you for the type,” Fitz replied.

“What is the type that likes  SweetTarts ?”

“Not Grant Ward.”

“And what type of  _ sweets  _ did Leo Fitz like growing up?” Ward asked.

“I was a fan of  Irn-Bru ,” Fitz replied.

“I can’t judge you, because I have never heard of that.”

“They’re hard to explain. I’ll get you some to try when we visit Scotland next.”

Ward caught the we of the sentence, and smiled but didn’t question it yet. He hadn’t met Fitz’s mother yet, and Fitz hadn’t ever offered to bring him home before, but he also had always assumed they were heading that way. He hadn’t ever had a serious relationship before, nothing that felt this permanent before. A lot of his life had been spent in service of SHIELD, playing Garrett and helping from inside of Hydra, and you can’t do that when you’re worried your partner is going to die if you slip up. He’d only kissed Fitz after he was sure Garrett was out of their lives forever, secure in that Garrett couldn’t hurt Fitz to get to Ward. 

“Okay, you just discovered you have superpowers,” Fitz said, even though it was technically Ward’s turn in this little game they’d been playing since their first date. Ward had a hard time coming up with questions, though, and Fitz knew that, so he would ask two or more before poking at Ward to try one. “What are they?” 

“Superpowers,” Ward considered. With the world full of  Inhumans and Avengers, this always came up and there was an actual non-zero possibility that you could get superpowers one day. When Grant was a kid, it had been a purely hypothetical question, but now - “I actually don’t know if I’d want powers. I like being me like this.”

Fitz was the only person he’d admit that to.

“I certainly agree, but that’s not the point of the question, though.”

“Okay, well, if I had to have a superpower, I’d just want to be invulnerable. I could protect you better that way.”

“A literal shield,” Fitz replied.

“Something like that.”

Fitz gave him a thoughtful look as they pulled up out front of a little café highly rated for its brunch menu that both Daisy and Simmons had pushed on them.

“Are we really the type of gays who do brunch?” Grant asked, looking at the cute café front, the name Haven Café written in swirling script across the window. 

“No, but I desperately want an omelet, and Simmons said everyone raves about theirs, so I want to try it.”

“That is completely fair.”

“Let’s go have our first date, then, Agent Ward.”

“I don’t know if we should jinx it by calling it a date until we are back at base.”

“Mmm, that is a fair point,” Fitz agreed. “You’re a very smart, and practical man.”

“Are you buttering me up for a reason? I’m already going to put out after this no t -date.”

Fitz laughed, and it was such a good sound. Ward loved that sound so much, as much as he loved Fitz’s whole being.

“No, I just thought you should hear it. We talk about your looks, and your stunning physique, and your physical skills, but you are more than that.”

Ward leaned over the console to kiss Fitz.

“Thank you, baby.”

Fitz ran his fingers over his jaw.

“Omelet.”

“Yes, yes, we’ll go in and get you an omelet. Just kiss me real quick just in case.”

Fitz rolled his eyes, beautifully bright and blue, playfully, but kissed him nonetheless. He was always up for kissing, and Ward really enjoyed that part of his personality.

“Better?”

“Always. Come on, omelets.”

The café was almost sickeningly quaint with art prints hung up lovingly on the walls in soft pastel frames, flower vases filled the corners, soft curtains covered the windows enough to diffuse the bright sunlight. For once, though, Ward didn’t mind, which he chalked up to Fitz’s hand in his, intentionally playing up their relationship for any spectators.

“Well, hello cuties,” a hostess greeted them, barely five feet tall with a wide, friendly smile gracing her round face. “Two today?”

“Yes, please,” Fitz answered, and the hostess, her nametag said Grace, looked delighted to hear his accent. That was Ward’s reaction, too. She looked at him, then Grant, and their hands, tangled between them.

“Right this way. What brings  y’all to Winters Haven?”

She collected two menus and took them to a booth by the window.

“On holiday,” Fitz replied.

“Well, thank you for choosing Haven Café on your holiday,” Grace said. “Millie will be your server today, and I’ll bring you by our complimentary mimosas. Can I get you anything else to drink?”

“A water for me, please.”

“I’ll take a water as well,” Ward answered. Grace flashed him a smile, and then headed away, leaving them alone again. “So far, so good.”

“The mimosas definitely make us the kind of gays that do brunch,” Fitz said. 

“I will never pass up a free mimosa,” Ward replied.

“That is a fair reaction.”

“Only one, though. I want you sober for our not-date.”

“I am not a lightweight who’d get pissed off one mimosa,” Fitz protested. Ward knew that, and had seen Fitz polish of nearly his own weight in cheap liquor and strong beers, then proceed to challenge and beat Mack in a building competition. That was the day Ward was sure he’d do anything to make Fitz happy.

“Two, then,” Ward teased, bumping Fitz’s foot with his foot below the table. 

“Don’t play footsie with me when the French Bulldog Jesus is watching us,” Fitz playfully scolded.

“Excuse me?”

“Look,” Fitz said, pointing over Ward’s shoulder, and on the wall just above him, there was a French bulldog lovingly rendered as Jesus Christ himself at the Last Supper. The most hilarious part, Ward noted, was that the apostles were still human. Only Jesus had been changed.

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah! I can’t believe someone made that! It’s fantastic! Do you think I could purchase that for our bunk?”

“No,” Ward said.

“You don’t think it’s for sale?”

“It might be for sale but that thing is not coming back with us to our bunk.”

Fitz booed quietly, taking out his phone though to take a picture of the painting, no doubt sending it to Simmons for her opinion. 

“You’re absolutely no fun, Ward.”

“I am plenty of fun,” Ward said. “I just don’t want to have French Bulldog Jesus watching what I do to you in the privacy of our bedroom.”

Fitz laughed, and held up his hands to convey surrender, saying, “okay. Okay. You’ve got me there.”

Grace came back with their mimosas, just as Millie came by to take their order. Fitz ordered his omelet, fully loaded to a point of being almost grotesque while Ward ordered a waffle with berries and whipped cream. Fitz smiled fondly at him the way he always did when Ward surprised him, delighted to learn something new about him. 

He sipped his mimosa after the servers had left them alone at their sunshine-soaked table, looking over his boyfriend, and asked, “what about you, Fitz? What type of superpowers would you have?”

“I don’t think I’d be useful with most powers,” Fitz said thoughtfully. “But I’d like to be able to slow down time. It would give me more time to complete projects, be more careful with them.”

Ward grinned at Fitz.

“Also, we could have sex in more places because no one could walk in on us.”

He ran his foot along Fitz’s, teasingly and lovingly. 

“Behave, Grant,” Fitz said, but he didn’t take his foot away. Instead, he pushed his own foot back against Ward’s. He took his glass up and had a soft smile on his face. His eyes were bright, this gorgeous blue that Ward obsessed with, and unconcerned for once. Even though they were on a mission, technically, he seemed happy. “You’re staring at me.”

“I can’t help it. You’re gorgeous.” The cutest blush spread across Fitz’s cheeks, tingeing the tips of his ears. “Honestly, how did I get this lucky?”

“Stop,” Fitz grumbled under his breath.

“What? Stop praising you? Stop loving you openly and unafraid?”

“Yes, no. Neither. I don’t know. Being away from the team is making you very sentimental, and it’s bizarre. I like it, but it’s bizarre.”

“I’m trying to be, you know, better,” Ward said softly. “About showing my affection, and letting you know how I feel, and what I’m thinking. You know, with my parents, and brother –”

Fitz touched Ward’s hand on the table, feather soft and with all the care in the world.

“I know how you feel, Grant. I don’t need big displays of affection, or for you to tell me you love me all of the time. I get it. You tell me in other ways, like taking me here when I want omelets even though you hate cafés and brunch. You put me first, and protect me, and – what I’m saying, is that I know. And I appreciate you trying to better yourself and move past your growing up. I love you for that. I know who you are.”

Ward turned his hand over and caught Fitz’s. 

“I’m glad we got to get off the plane, away from the team. They’re great, they’re family, but they are suffocating sometimes.”

“Sometimes,” Fitz said. “I swear, if I had to hear Daisy snap her gum one more time, I might actually snap, and pull a Cell Block Tango on her.”

Ward could tell his face did a thing against his will because Fitz made a face back.

“What?”

“Why’d your face do that?”

“Why’d my face do what?”

“Do you not know Cell Block Tango? Have you never seen Chicago?”

“No?”

Fitz sighed and shook his head at Ward.

“Tonight, after all this, we’re watching Chicago. I can’t stand for this.”

Ward laughed.

“Whatever you want, Fitz.”

* * *

Their next stop after eating themselves into a small waking coma, Fitz lead them through shopping at small shops around the town. Fitz found a cute bracelet for Simmons that he said would match  her  favorite necklace perfectly , and Ward  picked up a bag of sea salt dark chocolate  mini bars for Daisy who had been complaining that there was never any good  chocolate on board or at the base.  At a high end boutique, Fitz picked him out a new outfit for their next not-date,  which consisted of a well-fitted dark grey suit  with a  new button-down shirt. 

“What is this for?” Ward asked. “Where are you taking me?”

“That is for me to know and you to enjoy,”  Fitz said, moving to pick out his own. “You’re very bad at getting surprised. The last time I tried, you nearly punched me in the face.”

Not his proudest moment, of course.

“But, I am determined to keep trying, therefore you will just have to wait and find out what we’ll doing.”

“ That’s not  worrisome at all,” Ward said, snarky edge to his voice back unintentionally , crossing his arms across his chest. Fitz smiled at him over his shoulder , unfazed by Ward’s attitude .

“Come here, grump.”

Ward stepped up beside  Fitz who pulled  his arms out and took his hand.

“ I’m going to take you out for the nicest dinner you’ve ever had,” Fitz said, standing on his toes to speak low into his ear. “And then, I’m going to take you to the nicest hotel you’ve ever been to, and do very,  _ very _ dirty things to you. The kinds of things you have to put a warning on .”

Ward couldn’t help the blushing smile that crossed his face, but he leaned in to kiss Fitz of his own choice.

“ You’re terrible at keeping secrets and surprises to yourself,” Ward commented. 

“ I didn’t say what I’m going to do to you,” Fitz said and stepped back to the suit options. Ward checked his phone while Fitz browsed.

“You should get the dark blue,” Ward said, replying to Daisy that no, Hydra hadn’t taken his prince to another castle. “It  compliments your eyes.”

Fitz turned, ready to say something.

“And I like how you look in blue,” Ward said with a nonchalant shrug.

He put his phone away and turned his attention back to Fitz.

“ I didn’t know you had a preference.”

“Well, my true preference is no suit at all, if we’re being honest. But  since that is frowned upon by the general public and the law, I  would have to say you look very good in blues.”

Ward could feel the clerk’s eyes on them as Fitz stepped into his space and  slid his hands along Ward’s sides  underneath his jacket. 

“ I will certainly take that under advisement.”

“Someone is watching us,” Ward said,  heartbeat jumping in his chest. Fitz,  who had been accepted since he’d come out, who’d been settled into his identity for a decade or more, looked over his shoulder at the clerk with unamused, unafraid eyes. His reactions to people knowing, to people seeing them together, were fascinating to Ward. He’d been taught since childhood that he was wrong, even before they knew about his sexuality. He’d been taught that he was bad, and  wrong, and didn’t deserve happiness the same way other people did, that he was a tool to be used and left aside , uncared for,  abused and battered. But Fitz, Fitz was bright and warm, unashamed, touched him  without worrying who  could see or what they  thought about him.

“Don’t worry about him,” Fitz said. “Once we leave this store, we’ll never see him again.”

Which was probably true, but Ward couldn’t shake the way the clerk was staring at them.

“Fitz,” Ward said. 

“I’ll let go, but you know there’s nothing wrong here,  nothing wrong with what we’re doing.  There’s nothing bad or wrong with  _ you _ .”

Ward sighed, resting his forehead against Fitz's.

“ You’re too good  to me.”

“There’s no such thing.”

Fitz kissed him, and then backed away to grab the dark blue suit and a soft-looking light blue button-down to match it.  Ward followed  him  up to the counter where he set his items down, including the suit he had selected for Ward. 

“You’re not pa  –” he started to protest but Fitz gave him a steady look that silenced him.

“ Did you find everything okay?” the clerk asked, an awkwardly shaped man who’s name tag announced him as  **_ Todd _ ** . He made Ward uncomfortable with the  way he leered at Fitz,  and then his eyes found Ward’s. There was some thing dead in his eyes .

“Yes, thank you,” Fitz said. 

“Good.” 

Ward ached to put his hand on some part of Fitz, to claim him, to protect him from - he wasn’t sure what from, but he wanted to protect Fitz so bad. 

Fitz went through the check-out process without blinking, his body stiff and alert. When they first met, Fitz had been quiet and shy, a bit naïve, and had had no instincts. Now, though, he was a full agent, battle-tested and weary. Agent Fitz had seen and experienced some terrible shit since joining the field team, and even though Leo Fitz was soft most of the time, Ward had seen the hard edge of Fitz’s anger and the violence of his retribution. 

“Thank you for your help,” Fitz said, taking his bag from Todd, his voice flat and cold. “I’m sure you’re very happy with your life decisions.”

He turned, took Ward’s hand, and lead them out of the store with his head held high and proud. As they stepped out, Fitz looked at Ward.

“Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

“No, I love spiteful Fitz,” Ward said. “Of course, I love all of you, so spiteful Fitz is a part of the whole package.”

Ward took them back to the car to drop off their purchases.

“There’s a nice park around the corner from here,” Ward said. “Want to take a walk?”

“I would do anything with you. But shouldn’t we do what we came here for?”

“We’re here to have a not-date.”

Fitz rolled his eyes, those big blue eyes that Ward couldn’t get enough of. 

“Yes, but somewhere during this not-date, you and I are supposed to go be agents and do our job.”

“Who says we have to do that now?”

“Agent Ward, you are not shirking duties just so you can flirt with your boyfriend, are you?” Fitz teased. “I know you know better than that. On a mission, it is imperative that you stay –”

Ward shut him up with a kiss, pressing his back into the car door, hands coming up to hold Fitz’s jaw. He felt Fitz’s hands scrabble at his shirt, finding purchase in the shirt to drag him closer. That was one of the things Ward loved about this relationship, that kept him coming back for more even when all of his training wanted to drive him away, that Fitz wanted him just as bad, and wasn’t afraid to show it. When Ward kissed Fitz, Fitz kissed back with just as much fervor as he was given. He initiated things, came to find Ward first, touched him and let himself be touched without ever drawing away. 

“This is not the mission,” Fitz muttered.

“This is absolutely the mission.”

He slid his hands through Fitz’s hair, and Fitz let himself be held.

“We’re going to get in trouble.”

“Let Coulson come down here and yell at us himself.”

Fitz’s hands found themselves to Ward’s waist, curling into the fabric there. Despite his protests, he wasn’t pushing Ward away or asking him to stop.

“God, you’re incredible,” Fitz said into his cheek as he turned his head to kiss along his cheekbone. “You’re also a menace.”

“I know.”

“How dare you love me so openly, Grant Ward?”

Ward laughed.

“How dare you make it so easy to love you, Leopold Fitz?”

“You know, if you let me go and we do this mission, we can get back to base and we’ll see how easy and open we can love each other.”

Ward groaned into Fitz’s skin. 

“ _ Fine _ , you’ve convinced me. We’ll go to the warehouse now, and be boring SHIELD agents on a mission.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, Ward. I’m just impatient to get you naked again. The faster we do the mission, the faster we’ll get back home to be very dirty, not at all boring lovers in our bedroom again.”

“Promises, promises.”

* * *

The warehouse was quiet as they slipped inside, Fitz’s hand in his own. He’d retrieved his sidearm from the car, and Fitz had grabbed his tool kit at the same time. 

“Probably not the time, but I have a question,” Fitz said. “Say, you can settle down anywhere. You can pick a spot, build a house perfect for you, anywhere. Where do you go?”

“Where do you want to go?”

Fitz paused.

“Why are you deflecting?”

“Not deflecting. It doesn’t matter to me where we stay, where we settle down. I’ll build the house, you pick the spot.”

Fitz laughed quietly, his softest, most fond laugh.

“You’re including me in your future fantasy.”

“Of course. You’re in all of my fantasies,” Ward said, pausing at a doorway to look behind him at Fitz. 

“That’s incredibly sweet. So, you’d be okay if I chose Scotland?”

“Yes. Of course.”

Fitz’s eyes went soft, and even though they were in the middle of the actual mission part of the mission, Fitz pulled him in for a soft kiss that felt like love all by itself.

“Mission,” Ward reminded him.

“Right. Mission. On it.”

Ward lead them into the office at the back of the warehouse where their informant had assured them they’d find the safe. The safe was why Coulson had chosen Fitz and Ward, why they worked together so often these days. Ward was the muscle and Fitz was the brain, a perfect pair that complemented each other. 

“Okay, let’s see.”

Fitz moved around the abandoned office, checking under discarded paintings for a wall safe while Ward stood off to the side, out of his way and on guard. He had his weapon drawn and readied, body tensed in case of a fight. His number one priority was Fitz, distracted, working. If the weapon fell into Hydra’s hands, they’d have another chance to get it back. They always did. He couldn’t get himself another Fitz. There was no one like Fitz. 

“Any luck finding it?” Ward asked, not turning to look at Fitz work. 

“No, there’s no safe in here.”

“Try the floor.”

“The floor? Really?”

“Some rich people like floor safes instead.” 

“That’s fucking weird.”

But he could hear Fitz move to try the floor, pushing furniture around. Somewhere, off in the distance, aside from the scrape of the furniture in this room, Ward heard a door break.

“Wait,” he said, and Fitz paused.

“What is it?”

“Someone’s here.”

“In the warehouse?” Ward looked over his shoulder at him, as if to say clearly. “Sorry. Dumb question.”

“Stay here. I’ll go check it out.”

“Should we really split up?”

“They’ll have to get through me to get to you,” Ward said, moving back to Fitz’s side. “I won’t be gone long. Promise. I’ll come back in one piece.”

Fitz caught his jacket to drag him back into a kiss.

“You had better, Grant.”

Then, he let Ward go. 

Ward took the safety off  his weapon and stepped out of the  office. The windows had long since been broken in and boarded up, only slivers of light slipped through the cracks between the boards.  He crept through the darkness, listening for anything , any squeak or shuffle. Fitz, to his credit, was being incredibly quiet in the office; whether that meant he’d found the safe or not, Ward didn’t know.

He kept moving, scanning over everything, checking behind each left - behind crate of moth-eaten supplies and down each aisle, shelves bare and dusty.  Shadows chased each other as he moved through the floor , and he stepped lightly to avoid kicking up the dust.  At the end of the warehouse, Ward paused to peak at the main loading dock, the door cracked open but there were no footprints into the building to disturb the dust.

Odd, but maybe they’d heard Fitz moving around in the office and changed course, gotten scared away. 

Ward decided to double back to make sure Fitz was alright, pausing to peak into the break room which had long since been taken apart and cleared out except for a single chair in the corner, cushions torn apart by creatures that made this warehouse their home long ago. No one had been here since the company, a fake company covering a wealthy businessman’s dealings with Hydra, had pulled out of the town and left the warehouse empty. They’d left this weapon here, Ward figured, because no one had traced the businessman’s work to Hydra yet, and no one expected this weapon to be hidden in some terribly guarded, broken-down, nowhere of a town in a safe in a back office in a warehouse no one went to. 

He pushed open the office door slowly, looking behind him one last time before he was satisfied and stepped inside.

And, his heart stopped. Fitz was leaned against the wall, face pale, one hand pressed into his side as he worked at a digital screen on a safe. His hand was covered in blood which seeped into his shirt from -

“ _ Fitz _ ,” Ward said, dropping his gun and hurrying to Fitz’s side. “What happened?”

“I don’t know, this guy snuck up behind me,” Fitz said, voice labored. “He told me to give you Hydra’s regards, stabbed me in the side, and then fucking disappeared before I could grab him.”

“And you didn’t shout? You didn’t alert me?” Ward asked, putting the safety back on and holstering his weapon. He pushed Fitz’s hand away to press his own against the wound. “Are you okay?”

“I mean, there’s a hole in my side where there shouldn’t be, but other than that, I’m doing great.”

“Fitz,” Ward said, reaching for his phone. “Stop touching the safe, and let’s get out of here.”

“No, I’m almost done. I’ve just got this last bit –” 

“Fitz, you have been stabbed.”

“And I’m not leaving until I get this god forsaken weapon so at least I didn’t get stabbed for nothing.”

Ward pressed his hand tighter against the wound, and Fitz wiped the blood from his freed hand on a clean part of his shirt. He went back to his work while Ward kept an eye on the doors, on Fitz’s wound, on Fitz. Fitz, who wavered against him as the last lock on the incredibly high-tech safe disengaged, leaning into Ward heavier and heavier.

“Fitz, stay with me.”

“I’m good.”

“You’re fading.”

“I’m good.”

Ward held Fitz up while he opened the safe and pulled out the case. 

“Got it.”

“Then, let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Yeah,” Fitz said, and his body dropped against Ward’s, dead weight as he lost the ability to stand.

“Fitz. Hey. Hey. Fitz.”

He eased himself to the ground, letting Fitz fall into his arms as he went, easy and steady against him. 

“Leo, can you hear me?”

“I’m good,” Fitz repeated.

“You’re really not, but I appreciate the optimism.”

Fitz blinked slowly at Ward, head tipped back. There was so much blood still coming from the wound, and he didn’t know how he was going to get Fitz and the weapon back to the car, back to the airfield, back to the base.

“I don’t feel great,” Fitz said. 

“Yeah, I suspect that is the hole in your side where your blood is coming out.”

Fitz hummed.

“Simmons is going to be angry,” he said. Ward needed a plan. That’s what he needed. He needed to keep going, keep moving. He wasn’t doing any good sitting here waiting for Fitz to bleed out. He had to get Fitz to the car. He had to get the weapon to the car. He had to get the car to the airfield, and contact May to meet them there. 

First, Ward moved to grab the weapon case and toss it haphazardly onto the desk. 

“I promised I’d come back safe, and I definitely am not doing that now,” Fitz continued.

Next, Ward managed to stand up without dropping Fitz, who was more of a sack of dead weight potatoes than a functioning man at this point, and lifted him into his arms, carrying him like a bride. 

“This is nice,” Fitz muttered.

Luckily, Fitz’s wound pressed into Ward’s stomach, applying at least some kind of pressure. 

“Leo, grab the case and set it on your stomach,” Ward instructed, leaning them towards the desk. Fitz did as he was told, a good agent following orders even when wounded. “Good. Okay. I’m going to get us to the car. Don’t pass out. Stay with me.”

“It really hurts.”

“I know, baby.”

“If I go to sleep, it won’t hurt.”

“If you go to sleep, you might not wake up.”

“Oh.”

Ward carefully, slowly picked his way back the way they came, keeping an eye out for any Hydra spies lurking in the shadows. He couldn’t do anything if there were any, arms full of half-conscious Scotsman and all, but he preferred to be alert than shot in the back. 

Or stabbed.

“We were having such a nice day,” Fitz said. They managed to make it to the car unscathed, which brought Ward to his next problem, getting Fitz into the car. 

“ Okay, I’m going to put you down so I can get the door open. Hold onto me and don’t pass out.”

Fitz made a noise but Ward didn’t have time to interpret it, choosing to focus on setting Fitz down on his feet and fishing the keys from his pocket. 

One thing at a time. 

Unlocking the car was no problem, and getting the door open was fine. But getting Fitz into the car without bashing his head or letting him drop entirely was  akin to getting a toddler to sit in their highchair when they didn’t want to. He was dead weight, barely conscious, and he clung to Ward’s shirt.

“Okay, duck your head,  Leo.”

Fitz  did, tucking his head under Ward’s chin and letting out a small whimper as Ward moved them.

“It’s okay. I’m going to take care of you. I’ll get you to Simmons and she’ll make you all better. Just hold on.”

“Hey, promise you won’t let go,” Fitz said. “I love you, Grant.”

“Don’t you dare try to say goodbye to me right now, Leo. You’re going to be alright. A Hydra agent doesn’t take out Leo Fitz, right?”

“Apparently he did.”

Finally, Fitz distracted, Ward managed to tumble him into the seat as gently as possible. 

“Hey, love, press your hand into your side, okay? I can’t drive and keep pressure on your wound at the same time to keep you alive.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“I’m going to. It’s too late. I started worrying about you years ago. Press your hand into your side.”

Fitz pushed his hand into his wound, and Ward took that opportunity to rush around the car, taking out his phone to start dialing May.

“Ward?” May answered as he fell into the driver’s seat.

“Meet me at the airfield. Fitz is hurt.”

“How?” May asked, her voice even, but he could hear that hint of concern in her voice, and the sound of the  Quinjet’s engine firing up. “How hurt?”

“He was stabbed. He’s - he’s lost a lot of blood. How quickly can you get us back to Simmons?”

“We’ll find out,” May said. “I’ll meet you at the airfield.”

“Thanks, May.”

“Get him here fast, and safe.”

“No arguments here.”

The car they’d rented was sleek, and small, and fast, and he was incredibly grateful for that. He reached over and buckled Fitz into the passenger seat, kissing his cheek, and starting up the car.

“I got blood on your watch,” Fitz muttered.

“I don’t care about a watch, Leo.”

Fitz reached out with his free hand not holding his side, and touched the watch’s face. 

“I’ll get you a new one,” Fitz said. “A better one.”

“This watch is fine.”

“It’s got blood on it.”

“It can be cleaned.”

“No, no.”

“Fitz.”

But he didn’t respond, eyes unfocused.

“Hey. Fitz. Tell me a story. Leo,” Ward said. “Ask me a question. Anything. Just stay awake.”

“Did I ever tell you about the time that I accidentally blew up the lab at the academy and had to write a formal apology to my senior instructors for disregarding their instruction?”

He had, but he’d hear it all over again a million times if it meant Fitz was conscious.

“No, tell me about it.”

Fitz’s voice was  warbly , and unsteady, fading in and out. The airfield wasn’t far, and Fitz only made it halfway through his story when Ward came to a screeching halt near the  Quinjet , parked and waiting. He didn’t care about the car, about the stuff in the back, even though Fitz was insistent that they grab the shopping back. He dragged Fitz, suits and gifts in two, into the  Quinjet . 

“We’re on board, let’s go.”

“Taking off. I’ve alerted Simmons to be ready with the medical team when we get there.”

Ward kept Fitz against him, the bags on the ground before them. 

“You were telling me about the lab explosion,” Ward said. 

“Yeah,” Fitz said. 

“Hey, I  wanna hear the rest, okay?”

“You’ve heard it before,” he replied, lolling his head to the side to look at Ward. 

“I have, but I’d listen to you read your shopping list, or a physics textbook just to hear your voice.”

“That’s nice.”

Ward wanted to run his fingers through his hair, stroke over the side of his face, remind him how real he was, that he was safe in Ward’s arms.

“Okay, well,” Fitz said, looking up at Ward, almost past him. “There was this professor, an instructor, that absolutely hated me.”

He thought back to their first kiss, the stuttering way Fitz breathed in his space, gripping the front of Ward’s suit jacket. They had been undercover at a multi-billionaire dinner party, Fitz’s hair slicked to the side and his face cold, calculating, posing as a buyer interested in a weapon far more dangerous than the one in the base by Fitz’s feet. They were tucked in an alcove, hidden by shadow and an overgrown fern, hiding from Hydra agents searching for them.

“Are you sure?” Fitz had asked, as if he wasn’t the one who had kissed Ward first.

“Of course, I’m sure,” Ward had replied. “I’ve never been more sure.”

“Are you sure I’m what you want, though?”

“I’ve never wanted anyone more.”

He thought back to their first date – well, their first not-date, as they had been shot at in the middle of dinner. 

“What did you want to be when you grew up? Before Garrett? Before Hand? Before SHIELD or Hydra?” Fitz had asked, as if Ward had ever had a choice.

“I don’t know,” he had replied. “I never had an answer when someone asked. Teachers thought I should just join the army. Some people thought I’d end up in jail.”

“But what did you want to be? Not what everyone else thought you should be, or would be. What did little baby Grant, all full of hope, think the world would let him be?”

“When I was a kid,” Ward had said, slowly, considering, looking at Fitz over the table, lit by candlelight, “I wanted to be a pilot. I thought that would be so cool, flying all over the world, be anywhere in an instant.”

Fitz had grinned at him like he was the most precious thing he’d ever seen.

He thought back to the first time he fell asleep in Fitz’s bed, still wearing his jeans and t-shirt, tucked into Fitz’s side , the safest he’d ever felt . 

He thought back to the first time they’d had sex, soft and sweet, and the time after, fast and hot.

He thought back to holding Fitz’s hand for the first time around the team, the way Daisy had stared at their hands, then at Ward until he’d nodded, and she’d grin.

He thought back to everything, too scared to face this moment, Fitz’s voice  thready again, his face scrunched in pain. 

“We’re coming on the base in 5 minutes, Ward,” May said. “Simmons has a team prepped and ready at the loading dock to get Fitz to the medical wing.”

“Thank you, May.”

“He’ll be okay, Ward,” May replied.

On touchdown, Simmons and the medics whisked Fitz away, Simmons stopping to look Ward over quickly before he waved her away to look after Fitz.

“It’s not mine,” he said, speaking of the blood. She nodded, and headed after the stretcher.

“What are these?” May asked as she finished her post-flight checklist and stepped away from the pilot’s seat. She gestured to the bags, the suits laying in a crumpled heap before Ward, who couldn’t move. He needed to be with Fitz, even if that was outside the med bay, but he couldn’t move from his seat. His hands were covered in Fitz’s drying blood, his shirt, his pants, his watch. 

“We went shopping before the warehouse, and Fitz wouldn’t let me leave them behind.”

May quirked a small smile, because of course, that’s exactly a Fitz thing to do. She gestured him off the plane, but he couldn’t move still.

“He’ll be okay, you know. Simmons has him. And Simmons would do anything to keep Fitz alive.”

Ward nodded.

“You should be there,” May said, still trying to convince him to move.

All he could do was stare at his hands literally covered in Fitz’s blood.

“I should have been there with him,” he said. 

“Ward,” May said. He didn’t respond, hands splayed out in front of them. It was starting to dry under his nails. “ _ Grant,  _ you can’t change what happened. Fitz got hurt. You have to accept that, and now you have to be there for him, be there with him.”

She wrapped her hand around his wrist, and he looked up, startled.

“You need to be there with him, Ward, regardless of what happened. He needs you  _ now _ .”

Ward nodded. She was right. His duty to Fitz didn’t end just because Simmons had  him. He needed to be there in case Fitz asked for him, when Fitz woke up. 

“Come on.” 

She led him through the base to the med lab, and stood with him, silent and strong, until Simmons came out.

“He’s going to be okay. He’s sedated right now, but we got some blood into him to replace what he lost and stitched him up. He just needs some rest, but you can go in and sit with him.”

Simmons put her hand on his arm.

“Maybe wash your hands first, though.”

He looked down, having forgotten the blood. It was all over him.

“Go shower, actually. Change clothes. I’ll have you paged if he wakes up before you’re done.”

He wanted to argue, but the look of her face, and on May’s, said they were not going to let him do that. Like a good soldier, and a sensible person, he went to have a shower, quick and efficient. He redressed in clean clothes and headed back to the med lab. 

Fitz was still out when he got back, Simmons sitting at his side, writing her notes.

“He should be waking up soon,” Simmons said. “Coulson wants a report when you’re ready, but he said it can wait until Fitz is awake.”

“Good, I’m not leaving until he is.”

Simmons smiled, and pat his shoulder as she moved to leave the med lab. 

“You did good getting him home,” she said. “Don’t blame yourself for what happened. You did good getting him back home to safety.”

“Thanks, Simmons.”

She left, and he took his seat by Fitz, taking his hand. He’d wait by Fitz’s side for the rest of his life. 

That should have scared him. Growing up and all throughout his training, he was taught that attachments and sentimentality were a hindrance, that he would never be a good agent with a relationship or friendship. It was Garrett’s way of keeping him isolated, even after Hand had saved him. His attraction to Fitz had been immediate, but his attachment and commitment to him had taken awhile. Now that he was here, he wasn’t going to leave. Fitz made him happy. Fitz made him feel safe, and like he could be himself for once. When he slept in Fitz’s arms, pressed along his warmth, Fitz made him feel protected and safe. No one could hurt Ward while Fitz was there, which was a stupid, illogical reaction. Of course, someone absolutely could hurt both of them in their sleep. Anyone could betray them. But somehow,  _ somehow _ , when they crawled into bed at the end of the day, Fitz always made him feel like no one could ever reach them.

He hoped that he could do that same for him.

He would spend the rest of his life making sure that Fitz was safe. 

“Grant?” Fitz muttered, eyes fluttering open. 

“Hey, it’s me. How are you feeling?”

“Not great,” he admitted. He squeezed Ward’s hand, though, and smiled at him. “But I’m better now that you’re here.”

“And I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, Fitz.”

“Good. Right where I want you.”

Ward brought Fitz’s hand up and kissed his knuckles softly. They had cleaned Fitz of the blood, trading his destroyed shirt and jeans with a soft hospital gown which made him look smaller than he was.

“Hey, come up here and kiss me,” Fitz said, voice a little weak still.

“Gladly.”

Ward stood and leaned over  Fitz’s bed to connect their lips  softly. Fitz’s hand came up to touch Ward’s jaw, smiling into their kiss.

“Good. Very good. Stop worrying,” Fitz said, hand moving to smooth the wrinkle between Ward’s eyebrows. “I’m okay. Simmons fixed me up. No harm done.”

“There was very much harm done,” Ward said.

“Grant,” he replied, catching  Ward’s neck before he could pull away. “I’m  _ okay _ . Who would have known that the fucker from the boutique was Hydra? I just thought he was being a homophobic douche bag.”

“Wait,” Ward said. “What?”

There had been something weird about the clerk, but Ward had also chalked it up to homophobia and bigotry. He hadn’t even thought that Hydra would install someone to look out for SHIELD agents in town. 

“I didn’t mention that?”

“No.”

“Oh. Well. Yeah.”

Ward could tell he was frowning because Fitz was frowning back at him, and he did that thing with his fingers that always tickled just enough to make Ward crack a smile, dancing them along the nape of Ward’s neck up into his hair. 

“I’m alive. You’re alive. We got what we came for. And, we went on our first date, Grant Ward.”

“You were stabbed,” he reminded Fitz.

“I did not get shot at, though.”

He marveled at Fitz for a moment. 

“Alright. First date, then. We’ll see if we can get a second date that doesn’t end with you in actual stitches.”

“That’s just too much to hope for.”

“I’ll protect you better next time,” Ward said.

“I know,” Fitz said. “I know you will. I love you.”

Ward kissed him, deeper but just as sweet. Fitz kissed him back, sliding his tongue past Ward’s lips, injured but still determined. 

“Get in this bed,” he said, scooching over. “I need you much closer than that.”

Ward complied, happy to do whatever he needed to do to make Leo Fitz happy, to make him safe, to keep him right at Ward’s side. Fitz buried himself into Ward’s chest.

“Go to sleep, Grant. We both need some rest after the day we had.”

And despite the nerves still worming into his chest, despite the anxiety of seeing Fitz pale and shaking, despite the grief of knowing he wasn’t enough to protect the one person he loved most in the entire goddamn universe, despite all of that, he found that he was able to drift off to sleep, right where he belonged at Fitz’s side, wrapped around him like a shield. 

**Author's Note:**

> So, I write to distract myself from my own anxieties, and with everything that's going on, Leo Fitz and Grant Ward on a date and Grant worrying about Fitz is just the right cure for those anxieties. :)
> 
> You can find me on tumblr or twitter as KaytiKazoo if you want to cry about things with me and ignore the state of the world and how helpless we feel lololol
> 
> -k


End file.
